Let Go
by Jenny70529
Summary: Sometimes you have to let go of the past to get to the future. Starts off very briefly as GSR, ends as Sandle.
1. Accidents

_Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was mine, the finale wouldn't have ended as it did. _

_Spoilers: Possibly for "Way to Go"_

_Author's Notes: Yes, another WIP. But this one is going to be very short, probably only another 2 chapters after this one. The idea partially came to me while relaxing in Gulf Shores during my vacation, then after watching the finale after returning home, it morphed into what it is now. My trusty beta reader is unavailable to me right now, so any mistakes are definitely mine. _

_Let me know what you think!_

_Jenny_

**Let Go:**

Sara shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the anxious screams surrounding her as the line slowly trudged forward. She wasn't scared, at least, not that she would admit, but as she listened to the creaking wood frame around the metal death trap of a roller coaster, she had to wonder exactly how safe she would be, propelling at 60 miles an hour down an ancient, rusty track. The cars came to a stop, and a group of excited kids spilled out the other side as the next group of thrill-seekers filled the seats.

She didn't fail to notice how several cars weren't inhabitable due to broken seat belts and restraint bars. Stealing a glance in Grissom's direction, she noticed he didn't seem troubled by their obvious lack of maintenance. With a slight scowl, she let him lead her to the first car, where they'd ride next. Shaking her head as screams once again filled the air around her, she started to picture what it would be like to plummet from the top of the tracks to her death on the concrete below. She shuddered slightly as she grasped Grissom's hand. At least she was comforted to know that if the ride did break and she did fall to her death, she wouldn't be alone.

The roller coaster cars halted to a squeaky stop with a loud puff of air as the emergency breaks were depressurized. The safety bars popped up and the two teenaged girls sitting in the front car hopped out, both giggling incessantly as they debated on what the quickest route back in line was. With an anxious look at Grissom, she allowed herself to be helped into the car, frowning as she clicked on the slightly frayed orange seat belt. She pulled on the end, tightening it as much as possible as the black bar came sliding down on top of her lap, clicking into place.

She tried not to appear too paranoid as she tugged slightly at the bar, making sure it would latch properly. Once certain that the catch would prevent them from tumbling head first out of the coaster as they crossed the peak of the track, she let herself lean back with a content sigh.

"Are you ready?"

Sara smiled as she glanced towards Grissom, replying dryly, "It's too late now to not be ready."

"I've ridden this one several times, it's fun. Wooden tracks are always the best rides." Grissom replied, "Maybe after this one, we can check out the green one--" He pointed across the amusement park to a large, loopy metal track, "I've heard it's exhilarating."

With a resigned sigh, Sara replied quietly, "Maybe so."

"Are you having a good time?" Grissom asked, sensing her discomfort, "You can pick the next ride, if you want to."

Sara shook her head, forcing a smile, "No, no...anything I do with you constitutes a good time. I just like being with you."

Grissom's response was cut off by her shriek as the coaster lunged forward, starting to creep it's way up the track. Through the clanking and wind, she was barely able to hear him as he shouted, "Lean back or the descent will hurt your neck."

She closed her eyes, grasping the restraint bar tightly as the coaster paused at the top of the incline, teetering slightly before rushing down the hill, turning and whiping them around as they maintained their top speed. With her stomach in her throat, she silently prayed they wouldn't die. As they descended down the second slope, Sara felt her butt leave the seat for a moment, and her prayers began to be whispered chants as she hoped the restraint bar wouldn't let her fall to an untimely demise.

They eased back into the landing platform, and the ride operator shouted loudly, "Do you guys want to go again?"

Sara's moan was cut off by 20 other excited whoops of joy as the coaster lunged forward again, starting their nightmare over once again.

Five agonizing minutes later, they pulled into the platform once again, and on shaky legs Sara stood, stumbling out of the coaster and through the double-door exit into the arcade. The cool air did little to calm her tumbling insides and ignoring Grissom's questions, she propelled herself to the nearest trash can, holding back her hair as she expelled the contents of her stomach. With a slight whimper, she leaned against the wall, slowly easing herself to the floor with her knees drawn to her chest.

She draped an arm across her queasy stomach as she inhaled deeply, her eyes closed as she willed her body to cooperate. Despite her humiliation at getting sick from a stupid roller coaster, morbid curiosity caused her to open her eyes and see if, by some chance, Grissom had disappeared and not witnessed her moment of weakness. Surprised to see the older man nowhere around, she let her eyes fall closed again, fighting back another wave of nausea as the excited screams from outside pierced the arcade walls.

"Sara, honey?" Grissom's voice said softly, causing her to open her eyes and glance up towards him with an embarrassed smile. Kneeling in front of her, he held out a bottle of water, "I didn't know if you'd like a Sprite or something fizzy, so I decided water would be the best bet."

Sara bit her lip, taking the bottle and holding it against her warm forehead, "I'm sorry...I don't know what happened, I'm not usually--"

"It's okay, calm down." Grissom said softly, "You're not indestructible, you're human like the rest of us."

Sara smiled wryly as she opened the bottle of water, taking a small sip, "That's funny, because I don't see everyone else puking their guts up after getting off of that...that machine."

"I've seen a few." Grissom replied quietly, pushing her hair back from her face with a concerned smile, "Are you okay now?"

Sara took another sip of the water, resisting the urge to spit it out as her stomach rebelled slightly. She remained silent for a few moments, not wanting to open her mouth and tempt fate. She pressed the bottle against her forehead once more, a slight shiver running down her spine as the beads of sweat from the bottle ran down the sides of her cheeks.

Noticing her ashen complexion, he tried to think of something else he could do to soothe his trembling girlfriend. It wasn't often that he had to take care of someone else, and to say he was rusty would be a gigantic understatement. Looking wistfully out the window, he decided to push his own wants aside as he asked quietly, "Do you want to just head back home?"

"No, no." Sara whispered softly, her eyes still closed, "I'll be okay, just give me a few minutes. Today's your day, I'll be fine."

Grissom laid his hand on her shoulder, speaking gently, "I don't care about going on the rides nearly as much as I care about you, honey. If you aren't feeling well, you'll be miserable for the rest of the day, and I don't want you to have to suffer just so I can have a good time."

"I'm okay." Sara repeated, forcing herself to rise to her feet, her hand against the wall as the room slightly swayed, "I'll be fine."

Grissom took a step back as she moved from the wall, grimacing as she turned back to the trash can to vomit once more. With one hand on her back, he waited for her to finish before leading her to a bench a few feet away, sitting down beside her as she sank onto the wooden seat.

"Maybe going home wouldn't be a bad idea." she admitted softly after a few moments of silence.

Grissom helped her stand, wrapping an arm around her waist as he led her to the door, "Do you think you'll be okay to ride in the car?"

"Don't worry Grissom, your leather seats are safe." Sara joked, her cheeks burning with embarrassment once again. As if it wasn't bad enough to get sick in front of him once, she did it twice, and ruined their entire day.

Grissom opened the door, gently leading her through, "I'm not worried about the car, Sara, I'm worried about you. Is that such a bad thing?"

"I'm fine." Sara replied, cringing as the roller coaster creaked over their heads, "You know, if we made a few calls and got this place inspected, I bet they'd have to close down."

Grissom was silent as he shook his head with a smile, leading her towards the exit, "You're really something, you know that?"

"I've been told that a time or two..." Sara joked, "So what are we going to do for the rest of the day?"

Grissom kissed the top of her head, his arm still snaked around her waist, "I can think of a few things..."

"Right, because you find me sexy when I'm sweaty and reeking of vomit." Sara laughed, pulling away, "Not to mention the sunburned arms."

Grissom glanced down at her shoulders and arms, which were already a bright pink color, "I didn't realized you were burning...why didn't you say something?"

"It's just a sunburn, it's not a big deal. It'll fade after a few days and I'll have a nice tan in it's place." Sara replied, rolling her eyes. She paused as they reached the exit gate, squeezing Grissom's hand tightly, "I'm feeling a lot better now, we can stay if you want to."

"It doesn't make you weak to admit that you can't do everything." Grissom replied, glancing towards the roller coaster they had just gotten off of, "I don't expect you to be perfect."

With a scowl, Sara hissed, "I'm not trying to show how strong and tough I am, I'm trying to make sure that my boyfriend has a good time on one of the very few days he takes off of work. Is that wrong to do?"

"I'm not going to fight with you, Sara, and I'm not going to let you torture yourself for my benefit." Grissom replied calmly, "You're sunburned, you're nauseous--"

"I'm fine now!" Sara groaned, taking a step back from him, "Why are you so stubborn?"

"Why are _you_ so stubborn?" Grissom responded, "And if you've improved so drastically, what do you say we ride the wooden coaster again?"

Sara's face rapidly paled, and Grissom raised an eyebrow, "Now, wouldn't you rather continue this argument in my air conditioned car?"

"Fine." Sara huffed, following Grissom out of the gate and to their nearby parking space, "You're such a...a..."

"Man?"

"Yes!" Sara replied, pulling the door open and flopping into the seat, "Sometimes you're just impossible."

Grissom fastened his seat belt, smirking in Sara's direction, "I learned that from you, you know."

"I know." Sara huffed, turning the air conditioning vents to blow towards her, "My place our yours?"

"Let's go back to yours, so you can change into something more comfortable." Grissom suggested, "I believe we stopped halfway through Casablanca last week."

Sara nodded, a frown crossing her face at the memory, "419 off the strip, about an hour into the film."

"Since we're both off of work, why don't we pick up right where we left off?"

"Or we can start the night over with candles and champagne?" Sara suggested, raising an eyebrow as they pulled out of the parking lot, "Leave the cell phones in the car?"

With a slight smile, Grissom replied quietly, "I love the way you think."

"Well, I love--"

Her response was cut off as Grissom shouted an expletive, turning the wheel sharply to the right as the sound of crunching metal filled the air. The car spun several times before crashing into a nearby metal fence. As the car came to a halt, the only sound audible was the steady blare of the horn as Grissom's still body leaned against the steering wheel, showered in glass.

_TBC_


	2. Friendships

_Author's Notes: Sorry it took so long to get this out...I've been on an angst-kick lately, as many of my readers have seen. Anyone who's particularly fond of Grissom...or GSR...I'm sorry in advance. _

_All mistakes are my own, my trusty beta reader is working, as I should be doing. _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Two:**

Catherine Willows had never been a particularly patient woman, nor a very patient driver. So when she wound up sitting in dead-stopped traffic on the highway, instead of working her awaiting crime scene, she was a very unhappy woman.

She tapped her hand anxiously against the steering wheel, leaning slightly to the left to see if she could tell how far traffic was backed up. With a scowl she realized the produce truck in front of her was blocking her vision completely, and she silently fumed, wondering how much trouble she'd get in if she took the shoulder and flipped her sirens on.

Sure, she wasn't going to the accident, but the crime scene wouldn't wait forever. Besides, the hot Vegas sun was already pounding on her black SUV, her skin sizzling. The longer she waited, the less powerful her air conditioning would become, and the more irritated she'd become. It would be a lot easier to just use her LVPD authority to breeze through traffic...

She edged onto the shoulder of the highway, not too surprised to see the plethora of squad cars, fire trucks, and ambulances ahead. Flipping her lights on, she made her way to the front of the commotion, only feeling slightly guilty as she passed the unfortunate motorists that had to wait for this mess to be cleared before moving once more.

Catherine was nearly ready to duck off onto a side street when she noticed the familiar silver car. She slowed down, her heart racing as she pulled out her cell phone. Plenty of people owned silver Fords, it wasn't as if Grissom had the only one on the market. Still, it never hurt to double check. With trembling fingers, she dialed her boss's number, waiting with baited breath for an answer. After two rings, his voice mail picked up, and Catherine slammed her own phone shut.

It couldn't be Grissom, he was taking the day off to rest. They had been working hard on a serial case, and after he and Sara had run themselves ragged trying to piece together the evidence, both had taken the night off to catch up on the basics, such as eating and sleeping. He was probably at home, in bed, getting some much needed rest.

She hesitated, glancing at the wreck once more. It couldn't be Grissom's car, if he wasn't at home, he'd definitely be working. He wasn't the kind to take off of work so he could joyride around town, he loved his job too much for that. She slowed to a stop, waiting to get the officer's clearance to proceed. And that's when she saw the hysterical, blood soaked brunette violently pulling away from the paramedic trying to tend to her. Hastily putting her SUV into park, she jumped out of the vehicle and rushed over to the scene.

"Oh my God, Sara, what happened?" Catherine asked, grabbing Sara by the arm as she tried to move back towards the car, "Sara!"

"Let me go!" Sara screamed hysterically, "Grissom! I need to get him, I need to help him!"

Catherine waived her badge towards the paramedic, and he took a step back, giving the two women some space. Grabbing Sara by the shoulders, Catherine asked urgently, "Sara, what happened? Talk to me."

Tears spilled onto Sara's cheeks as she motioned towards the car, "They won't help him. They're just leaving him in there. He needs help! He's hurt."

Raising her hand to Sara's bleeding head, she gently soothed, "I'm going to go check on Grissom and see what's going on. You let this nice paramedic look at your head, you're bleeding."

"No!" Sara sobbed, pulling away from Catherine, "I've got to get to Grissom!"

Catherine grabbed Sara as the brunette made a beeline for the car, holding her back as she exclaimed, "Sara! Stop it!" Feeling the brunette slightly relax, she continued firmly, "I'll go check on Grissom. You need to get looked at, you're hurt."

"I'm fine." Sara muttered, struggling to break free from the blonde's grasp, "Grissom's hurt."

"That may be true, but you're hurt also." Catherine replied calmly, motioning for the paramedic to come over, "Let..." She glanced up towards the paramedic questioningly.

"Phillip."

"Let Phillip examine you, and I'm going to step right over here and check on Grissom. I promise I'll come right back and tell you everything, okay?"

After a few moments of deliberation and a few strangled sobs, the incoherent Sara nodded, letting the medic lead her to a nearby gurney where she immediately sank down, her body shaking as she started intently at the mangled car, oblivious to the treatment being administered to her. Phillip's voice began to fade, and she was vaguely aware of her body feeling numb as the world grew black and she slumped over, unconscious.

--

Catherine nervously moved towards the metal heap that used to be Grissom's car, holding up her badge to the officer working the scene, "What do we have?"

"Vehicle one veered into the southbound lane, causing vehicle two to swerve and lose control of their vehicle. The driver of vehicle one was eject, DOA. The occupants of vehicle two are your people...CSI Sidle, as you can see, isn't cooperating with the paramedics, they had to saw her out of the vehicle. CSI Grissom hasn't been removed, but the paramedics are deeming him DOA. We're waiting on the deputy coroner."

"I need to see him." Catherine said softly, the news knocking the wind from her. Dead? Grissom? It couldn't be. She had seen him only hours earlier, and he had been perfectly fine. A bit tired, but otherwise healthy.

The officer shook his head grimly, holding his hand up to stop her from getting any closer to the car, "I don't think that's a good idea, he's pretty...banged up."

"I _have_ to see him." Catherine insisted, her voice carrying a twinge of hysteria, "Grissom is my best friend, I need to see this in order to believe it."

The officer reluctantly took a step back, allowing Catherine to near the car. Peering in through the broken windows, she was able to see Grissom slumped over the steering wheel, his face filled with cuts and blood. How could he have been killed by just a few cuts to the head? His wounds looked less serious than Sara's. Her eyes trailed down to his chest before finally realizing that below his waist, nothing was connected. With horrified, sickened eyes she moved to get a deeper view into the car, pulling away and heaving on the pavement once she saw the bottom half of his body laying a few inches away.

She graciously accepted the bottle of water the officer handed her, and on shaky legs she stumbled away from the car, certain that the image of her friend, literally broken into two, would haunt her for the rest of her life.

She remained bent over, her hands on her knees, for a few moments, trying to calm down enough to get her mind into "business-mode". She had things to do, people to call...not to forget the crime scene that she had abandoned in her attempt to make heads or tails of this accident. There would be time to mourn later, now she had to handle the repercussions of this tragic event.

Exhaling slowly, she stood, reaching for her cell phone and dialing the first number she could think of.

"_Brown."_

She hoped that her voice hadn't waved too badly as she spoke, "Warrick, are you at the scene yet?"

"_No, they had some sort of accident, Nick and I ducked off on some side roads, but they're redirecting traffic. What's up?"_

"I'm at the accident scene now..." Catherine's voice cracked as she desperately fought the onslaught of tears, "It's Grissom and Sara. Can you meet me at the hospital? Can you call Greg, also? I need to take care of some things here."

"_Is it serious?"_

"That's an understatement." Catherine replied with a chuckle of nervous laughter. Glancing back towards Sara, who was now being strapped down to the stretcher for transport, she swallowed back bile and hoarsely added, "There's been a fatality."

--

"You don't need to do this...I'll be okay by myself." Sara huffed, her hands trembling as she tightly fastened her seatbelt, "I don't need a babysitter."

"I'm not here to babysit you, I'm here as a friend." Greg spoke softly, his words sounding hollow as he still tried to comprehend the day's events, "This is what friends do."

"Since when are we friends?" Sara snapped angrily, knowing she was being unreasonable, but unable to stop lashing out long enough to think clearly about the possible repercussions, "Working together doesn't make us friends."

"I believe it's the movie marathons, breakfasts and dinners together, and overall trust in each other that makes is friends, Sara." Greg reminded her, "I'm not the bad guy here, I'm just worried about you."

Sara crossed her arms, staring out the window, "Just because Grissom's dead doesn't mean I'm going to fall magically in love with you."

"I don't know what you're trying to do here, Sara." Greg replied calmly, "But it's not working. You can try to hurt me all night, but that won't stop me from caring about you."

"I don't want to talk to you." Sara spat, "You're infuriating."

Greg remained silent, occasionally stealing a glance at his best friend. He knew this was her way of trying to convince herself she wasn't hurting, her way of trying to isolate herself so she could grieve without an audience, but he wasn't willing to let her get away with that. Sometimes people needed to rely on the comfort of someone they loved, someone who loved them...tonight Sara needed someone to keep her sane, to keep her mind off of what could have been, what had happened, what she had lost. If anyone could handle that responsibility, Greg could.

They pulled into Sara's apartment complex, and Greg turned off the car, pulling the key from the ignition, "I'm coming in."

"I expected as much." Came Sara's cool reply, "I'm going to bed."

"I expected as much." Greg retorted, wrapping an arm around her as they climbed the stairs. She hadn't been banged up too terribly bad in the accident. Aside from a concussion, a few lacerations, and a sprained wrist, she had been unharmed. Compared to the two who had died, she had gotten off miraculously lucky.

They reached the top of the stairs, and Sara leaned her head against Greg's shoulder, "Greg?"

"Mhmm?" Greg responded, fighting to get her key out of his pocket.

Sara closed her eyes as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She had just lost her boyfriend, if she ran off her best friend as well, she'd be completely alone. Greg was always the perfect friend, he didn't deserve to be the subject of her verbal wrath. Wiping away the tear, Sara whispered softly, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Greg asked, looking down to meet Sara's tear-filled eyes, "I'm used to taking your bullying." he teased, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

Sara sniffled slightly, a small smile on her lips, "I guess by now you should be..." her smile flickered out, and she laid her head on his shoulder, "Seriously, Greg, I'm sorry. You're being...great. I really appreciate it."

"That's what I'm here for." Greg replied, "Go get changed for bed, and I'll find us something funny to watch...it will make you feel better."

Sara nodded, forcing herself to at least try to go along with Greg's suggestion. Maybe he had a point, wallowing in self-pity would destroy her. A distraction would probably make this whole situation a lot more bearable. She stepped into her bedroom, her eyes instantly resting on a framed photo standing on her dresser. She picked it up, running her finger lightly over the glass. It had been taken a few months prior at an entomology conference that Grissom had convinced her to go to. They both looked so happy.

Sinking to the floor, Sara clutched the picture tightly, holding it to her chest as she began to sob. She couldn't find the strength to look up as Greg entered the room, only vaguely aware of the warm embrace that held her tightly until she eventually cried herself to sleep.

_TBC_


	3. Adjustments

Author's Notes: Thank you to all who are reading! Please let me know what you think!

Jenny

Chapter Three:

Greg walked into the break room, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he made a beeline for the coffeepot. He was too tired to even care that he would be ingesting the cheap sludge the crime lab bought in an attempt to pass off as coffee, he was too tired to even acknowledge his coworker's presence. Sitting down at the table, coffee cup in hand, he let his eyes close, his hand raised to his forehead in an attempt to block the rest of the world out.

"Rough night?" Nick asked, dropping into the seat next to Greg, "You look like crap."

"Thanks." Greg muttered quietly, "Glad to know I can count on you."

"Hey, I call it as I see it." Nick replied, "Seriously, man, you look bad. I'm sure Catherine would let you go home if you asked."

Greg opened one eye, giving Nick a questioning look, "And duck out on Sara on her first night back? No way."

"You don't have to be her knight in shining armor, Greg." Nick chastised, "Sara's a big girl, she can look after herself."

"You just don't know." Greg muttered in response, taking a swig of the bitter black liquid, "She's still having a really rough time with this."

Nick shrugged, "We all miss Grissom, but it's been three weeks. It's good she's coming back to work, she shouldn't sit around moping all day, that won't change the past."

"She loved him, Nick." Greg replied tiredly, "He wasn't just a boss and a friend to her, it's a little harder to deal with in her shoes."

Nick shrugged again, tapping his fingers against the table, "I'm just surprised Ecklie didn't put his foot down sooner about her coming back."

"Me too." Greg agreed, "She's taking a long time in the locker room...should I go check on her?"

"She's a big girl, Greg, she can handle putting away her things without help." Nick drawled, "What about you, man? You don't look like you should be investigating anything, with the exception of the inside of your eyelids."

Greg took another sip of coffee, forcing his eyes open once more, "Stayed at Sara's last night."

"Yeah?" Nick asked, "She doesn't let you sleep?"

"No, it's not that...she just has these horrible nightmares sometimes." Greg replied quietly, not wanting their conversation to be overheard if the woman in question happened to come in, "I mean, they're the worst I've ever seen." he shrugged gently, "I guess after experiencing one of those, I decided it would be better to stay awake and make sure she was resting peacefully then be jolted awake by another."

Nick nodded sympathetically, looking up towards the doorway as movement caught his eye.

He had been wrong. Obviously Sara _couldn't _just take care of herself, mature adult or not. There were black circles under her pale face, and her clothes were hanging limply on her slender body. She, like Greg, made a beeline for the coffeepot, and took a seat opposite the men.

"Hey Sara, welcome back." Nick said quietly, taking in her appearance.

She had always been a small woman, but it was clear that she had lost a few pounds. He worriedly wondered if she was eating at all. Glancing in Greg's direction, he made a mental reminder to ask the younger man. Her eyes were blank and dark, devoid of the excited spark she usually possessed at the beginning of a shift. Her hair even fell limply around her shoulders. It was as if her entire spirit had just taken off, leaving only the shell of the woman they had all come to know and love. If he hadn't been worried she'd sock him in the jaw, he would have moved to her side to give her a gigantic hug. She looked as if she could use one.

"Hey." she murmured quietly, briefly glancing at Nick before turning her gaze to Greg.

They made eye contact, and even as a bystander, Nick could see the silent conversation the two held with their eyes. After a few seconds, their gaze broke and Greg pushed his chair back, mumbling quietly, "Nick? Want something out of the vending machine?"

"I don't even have two nickels to rub together, man." Nick replied, "Thanks though."

Greg looked towards Sara, offering her a small smile as he disappeared around the corner. Once Greg was gone, the tension in the room flared, and Nick found himself growing uncomfortable in the awkward silence that followed.

Nick cleared his throat, asking quietly, "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." Sara replied, her voice cracking slightly. They were silent for a few minutes before she offered him a hint of a smile, "So, now that Catherine's boss, how long do you think it will take before she tries to fire me?"

"I doubt she will." Nick said quietly, "Just because you butt heads sometimes, that doesn't means she doesn't respect you."

"As a person or as a CSI?" Sara retorted flatly, staring at the doorway, "I bet you're happy to be working for her again."

Nick shrugged silently, also looking towards the doorway. He wondered if they had felt this awkward talking to him after he had been nearly killed the summer before. It was as if he was sitting with Sara for the first time, she seemed like a completely different person from the Sara who had been coerced into taking a single day off with her boyfriend a few weeks prior.

He was spared from further conversation when Greg walked back into the room, taking a seat next to the silent brunette and handing her a package of peanut butter crackers and a bottle of V8. She silently look the crackers, tearing open the package and nibbling on the corner of one. She tilted the package towards Greg, and he shook his head, "I stopped at Burger King on my way in."

"That's healthy." Sara retorted, a hint of a smile on her pale face, "Double whopper meal?"

"Large sized." Greg said with a matching smile, "With bacon _and _cheese."

Sara rolled her eyes, "Typical. Where do you put all of that food?"

"I'm a guy." Greg smirked in response, opening the bottle of V8 and pushing it towards her, "Drink."

Sara wordlessly took the bottle from him, taking a small sip before placing it back on the table, "I'm done."

"No, you're not." Greg replied firmly, plucking another cracker out of the package and handing it to her, "Come on, Sara, don't be difficult."

Sara's eyes lit up with a small flash of anger before she snapped quietly, "Greg, this really isn't the time or the place...come on, we're at work."

"And one cracker and a sip of juice isn't enough to sustain you for the entire shift." Greg replied in an equally bitter tone, "Sara--"

"Okay, okay." Sara replied, taking the cracker out of his hand, "I told you, we don't need to get into this here."

"Finish the juice." Greg replied sternly, pushing the bottle closer to her, "It's good for you."

"Just like your double whopper and fries?" Sara smirked, rolling her eyes as Greg desperately tried for a quick comeback.

Their quiet bickering was stopped by Catherine's entrance into the break room, followed quickly by Warrick, who was still buttoning his shirt. By his tired eyes, it was clear he had either overslept or hadn't gone to bed yet.

Warrick slid into the chair beside Nick, eyeing both Sara and Greg's coffee cups with a definite look of jealousy. He looked up, his eyes connecting briefly with Sara's, "Welcome back, Sara, it's good to see you again."

"Thanks." Sara replied, looking down at her cup before pushing it towards Warrick. He accepted it with a grateful smile, not having time to speak before Catherine started to talk.

"Okay guys, we've got a busy night ahead of us." Catherine began, taking a quick look at her team. Aside from Nick, her crew looked like the walking dead. With a quiet sigh, she re viewed her assignment sheets, "Nicky, I've got a 419 in Henderson, fly solo." Nick accepted the paper, pushing his chair back quietly as he moved towards the doorway.

"Warrick, have you finished the arson from last shift?"

"No." Warrick replied, his voice scratchy with fatigue, "Getting close though."

Catherine nodded curtly, debating on which case to give him. After a few moments, she slid a thin strip towards Warrick, "B&E at the Chevron around the corner. It should be simple enough to give you plenty of time to work on your arson."

"Greg, Sara, you will be with me. We've got a triple homicide, an entire family murdered. Greg, get your things, I need to have a word with Sara before we go." Catherine spoke as Warrick disappeared down the hallway.

She waited for Greg to leave before she shut the door, sitting down across from the stoic brunette, "How are you doing?"

"How do you think I'm doing?" Sara replied curtly. She paused for a moment before sighing deeply, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be rude...it's just..."

"Hard?"

"Yeah." Sara replied, taking a small sip of her juice, "Don't worry though, I'm ready to be back at work."

Catherine nodded, "I never doubted that. I just want you to know...if anything gets too overwhelming to you tonight, or any night, just let me know and you can take a step back. You're going through a hard time, and I'm fully supportive of you and the time it takes to heal."

"I'm okay, Catherine."

"You look like something Doc Robbins has posted on his table." Catherine replied in a flat tone, "Sara, you're a good worker, and a valuable asset to the lab...not to mention, you're part of our CSI Family we've got going on here. We look out for each other, and you're no exception. If you need help, feel free to ask for it, you aren't alone."

Sara nodded, tears stinging her eyes. She glanced up towards the ceiling, trying to keep the moisture at bay, before whispering in a strained voice, "I'll be okay, Catherine. Thank you."

"No problem...now are you ready to go catch a crook?" Catherine asked, pushing her chair back, "Let's get moving, unless you want Greg to claim rights to drive."

Sara's eyes snapped open and she stood as well, stifling a yawn, "We can't let that happen."

Ten minutes later they were on the road, Catherine driving while Greg and Sara sat in the backseat, both nodding off slightly as they made their journey to the crime scene.

Sara rested her head on Greg's shoulder, reaching out to hold his hand. She couldn't explain it, but something about Greg made her feel safe and secure, a feeling she had never experienced before with another person. With a small smile on her lips, she yawned tiredly, letting herself relax as she succumbed to the beckoning darkness.

TBC


	4. Beginnings

_Author's Notes: Wow, it's been months! I didn't think I'd finish this today, it's been one of those rough days, but after watching two CSI reruns, I was inspired. :D. Hope someone's still reading this, I **love** to know what you guys are thinking, so don't hesitate to review! No beta, so all mistakes are mine. _

_Jenny_

Chapter Four:

Sara yawned, stretching slightly in an attempt to crack her sore back. Her head was throbbing slightly as her weary bones creaked with every move. She wasn't surprised at her body's poor response to the physical demands she was placing on it, after all, she had been crouching on the floor for nearly 3 hours, barely moving as she worked.

Homicides were always tricky, even more so when you had more than one victim. Stifling a second yawn, she ran the fingerprinting brush against her black pants leg, too tired to care if it spilled elsewhere. She had learned, through many years and ruined clothes, that dark colors were always a better choice when dealing with any sort of spray or powder.

Right now, she just needed the instrument clean enough to shove back into her kit, she'd worry about procedural equipment care later.

"I've got nothing useful, what did you find?"

Sara turned, offering Greg a weak smile as she rose on achy knees to face him, "Enough prints to guarantee none of the fingerprint techs will speak to us for a week."

"Is that a blessing or a curse?" Greg joked, "How can one house have so many prints?"

Sara shrugged, "I have no idea. Even if they were the sloppiest housekeepers in the universe, it shouldn't be this hard to collect prints. I've dusted furniture where children have played, and come up with less smudges and prints. Party, maybe?"

"Tons of overlooked suspects? That would be our luck." Greg groaned, nodding towards the door, "Ready to take a break? Catherine picked up some sandwiches and I'm sure she's willing to share."

Sara shook her head, motioning towards the blood spatter on the opposite side of the room, "I haven't even touched that mess yet, I've got my work cut out for me. Save me something, I'll take a break later."

Greg sighed, giving Sara a stern, yet worried, glare, "Are you sure? You need to keep up your strength...it won't do anyone any good if you starve to death at our crime scene."

"Oh, right, because eating one meal late will make me starve to death." Sara replied sarcastically, with a hint of a smile, "Don't worry Greg, I'll be fine. I am just beyond ready to get out of here, and the sooner we finish, the sooner we can head out to the lab...unless, of course, you're in the mood to work a double? Or a triple?"

"Point taken." Greg replied with a smirk as he made a motion to turn, "Yell if you need something."

With a small smile on her face, Sara pulled a swab from her kit, taking a sample of blood and placing it with the stack of evidence she had already collected. It was nice to be worried about, even if it did get irritating after awhile. When Grissom was around, he was caring, to an extent, but never actually _worried_ about her. Greg, on the other hand, might as well be the self-care police, always waiting to tell her she wasn't doing everything she was supposed to be doing. She often complained to him about babying her, but secretly she felt warm inside every time he chastised her. She had never been cared before like she had been over the last few weeks.

She was certain it was just because he didn't know how else to help, and that it wouldn't last, but for the meanwhile, she was happy to have someone looking out for her. She couldn't go a day without thinking about how lucky she was to have him as a best friend.

"So where do you need me?"

Sara looked up with a goofy grin, "I thought you were going to eat lunch?"

"And leave you here to work all alone?" Greg teased, "The sandwich can wait."

Sara raised an eyebrow, bringing her free hand to her chest, "Oh my, I never thought I'd hear Greg Sanders utter those words. Next you'll be telling me you quit reading those smutty magazines."

"I just read the articles." Greg laughed, opening his kit, "Catherine swore she'd die if she didn't eat right now, so she's going to finish her food and come take over while we eat. This is the last room left to process, so when we're done with this, we can go back to the lab."

Sara stretched slightly, pulling out her camera and snapping a few photos, "I never thought I say this, but...I can't wait. I guess I've gotten out of shape or something in the last few weeks, but my back is killing me and I can't wait to get home."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sara Sidle?" Greg joked, mockingly putting his hand to her forehead, "You can't possibly be the Sara I've been knowing for the last 7 years."

"Haha." Sara replied dryly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, "Bindle me?"

Greg reached into his kit, handing Sara a bindle as she turned her attention back to work. After a few moments of silence, he whispered, "You're really amazing."

"What?" Sara asked, looking over her shoulder with a quizzical look, "Are you feeling okay?"

Greg shook his head, a sheepish grin appearing as he met her gaze, "You really are. You've been through hell the last couple of weeks, and here you are, as focused as ever. If I were in your shoes, I don't know if I'd even be able to function."

"Sure, because crying on your shoulder every night and barely forcing myself to eat constitutes functioning." Sara replied dryly, "I have to focus on this, it's important. If I screw up, the case can be thrown out. Just because I'm having a hard time doesn't mean that it's okay for justice to be forgotten."

Greg's smile widened as he winked at her, "That, right there, is what makes you amazing. Grissom was a lucky man."

Sara's smile faded at the mention of Grissom's name, and Greg resisted the urge to kick himself for bringing up such a sore subject. She remained silent as she turned back to her work, reaching for a second swab in her kit, her hand trembling ever so slightly.

"Sara, I'm sorry--"

"Forget it." Sara replied, her voice thick with emotion, "I know you didn't mean anything."

Unable to come up with a decent response, Greg only nodded, moving to the wall to conduct measurements while Sara continued with the blood pool. While the silence was tense and uncomfortable, it was a lot safer than trying to come up with something witty to say and just making the situation worse. Ever since he was a young child, he hated to be around someone in such emotional pain, he had a terrible way of making things exponentially worse.

He was so involved in his work that he barely noticed as Catherine walked into the room. Both he and Sara jumped when the older woman started to speak, "Are we just about done here?"

"I'm finished." Sara replied, snapping her kit shut and rising to her feet from the squatting position she had assumed, "Greg?"

"I'm done." Greg added, sliding off his gloves with a snap and sealing them in a clear evidence envelope, "Hey Sara, notice how she comes back from lunch just in time to miss all of the work?"

"Keep talking, funny one, I'm the one signing off on your evaluation." Catherine retorted with a smirk, "Since we're through, you two can eat on the way back to the lab. Unless, of course, Greg has any more smart comments to make?"

Sara grinned, nudging Greg with her shoulder, "She put you in your place."

"She may have one the battle, but--"

"There are no wars on my shift." Catherine interrupted, "We'll head back to the lab, Greg, I want you with me in autopsy, Sara, I want you to start logging in evidence, disburse what is needed to Hodges and Wendy, get the prints to whoever's on shift. I want the three of us to get home on time today, so let's just keep focused and push forward."

Catherine turned to walk away, shaking her head as she heard Greg mutter, "She wants to go home to her kid, so we have to eat in the car."

As Catherine reached for the doorknob, she couldn't help but notice that this was the first time she had heard Sara laugh in ages.

--

"I just don't understand," Greg spoke through a mouthful of cheeseburger, "How can you _not_ like meat? Sure, it's some innocent animal, but what about those innocent vegetables, saturated in pesticides?"

Sara rolled her eyes, stabbing a stem of broccoli with her fork as she stared across the table at Greg, "Vegetables don't have heartbeats, they don't leave behind carcasses."

"Tell that to the poor Momma-Broccoli who sacrificed her son for you to eat dinner tonight." Greg replied, taking a sip of his soda, "You've broken apart a family."

"On the contrary, I'm going to eat her too." Sara laughed, motioning to a larger stalk, "And the cow that your hamburger is an offspring of?"

"Natural causes." Greg replied, "I got her permission, before her death, to partake in her child's muscle."

Sara raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain a straight face as she asked, "Greg Sanders? Cow-Whisperer?"

"You did good tonight." Greg spoke, after a few moments of silence, "I'm glad to see that you're starting to move forward."

Sara shrugged, glancing down at the table, "Bound to happen, right? I can't just sit in my apartment and feel sorry for myself, it won't change the past. I figured there has to be a point where I just suffer through the pain and start functioning again." she cleared her throat, brushing a tear away from her eye, "It was a lot easier to work with Catherine than I had expected it to be."

"She's not as bad as you think she is."

"To you." Sara snorted, "Everyone knows there is no love lost between the two of us."

Greg shrugged, nibbling on a french fry, "You've both grown a lot over the last 7 years...you both lost someone you were really close to. Grissom may have been your boyfriend, but he was her best friend."

"I know." Sara replied softly, sipping her water as she stared at the checkered pattern of the diner table, "Earlier...you told me I was amazing?"

"Yeah?"

Sara smiled, glancing up to meet Greg's gaze, "You're pretty amazing too."

_TBC_


End file.
